Angels&Wraith
by Holytaxaccountantcountsmytaxes
Summary: John has a secret: he's always been an angel, fallen from heaven, turned human. But when one of his brothers, more powerful than ever, comes to Atlantis to make him a gift, he regains his powers... but loses his soul. John/Rodney, but nothing explicit. Also, slight crossover with Supernatural (season 6). You don't really need to know the show to read this. Warning: self-harm.
1. Prologue

For A/N see end of chapter! My first multi-chapter, yay! :)

Standard Disclaimer for the whole story: I don't own any of this.

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Prologue

It had all started as a quiet day. No teams were leaving or entering the city and the only mission active at the time was a diplomatic one at an agricultural society Atlantis hoped to trade some fruits with that looked like apples, but had the taste of sour strawberries. No other mission was scheduled for the whole day and that one team was only due in a few hours for a simple status report. Other than that, the Stargate was perfectly idle.

All the greater was Elizabeth's surprise when she went for a coffee to distract her from cruel amounts of paperwork and spared a glance down the guardrail. She blinked, and startled. Where there had been no one a millisecond before now stood a dark haired man wearing a dirty trenchcoat. She nearly dropped her empty mug and quickly, loudly asked "who are you?"

It attracted his attention and made all the soldiers in the room aware of him.

In a crooked movement he turned his head towards her. Elizabeth realized that he wasn't a normal human, he couldn't be human. His face was stained with blood, glowing like there was hot magma beneath his skin. His whole body was bent in an unnatural angle. And when he heard the many guns being cocked at him, he didn't even flinch, just stared on with slightly feverish eyes.

"I am searching for Sachiel."

Elizabeth wondered if we was Ancient, thinking that Atlantis was still the Atlantis he knew. Maybe he was searching for one of his friends. She had always imagined a 'fallen' Ancient to look like that man; broken, with a body about to explode and be torn to pieces. Probably, though, he was from an advanced society with beaming technologies. But why should he be searching for someone in Atlantis then?

"What's your name?" she tried again and began to descend the stairs. The stranger kept on turning his head in her direction, but his movement still seemed hindered. The closer she got, the more inhuman he looked. She wondered if their weapons could harm him and was glad that one of her men was pointing a Wraith stunner at him. Those had always served them well before.

Then, one man – she remembered his name to be Tony – raised his arm to hold her back. "Ma'am," he said as a warning but she knew by herself not to get too close as long as they didn't know who that man was. What his intentions were. And how he had _got _there in the first place.

The door to her left opened with a swooshing sound. Colonel Sheppard and his team entered with caution, seemingly having been contacted through their radios. The stranger's head whipped around with impossible speed and began to fix his eyes on Sheppard. No one moved an inch, and time suddenly seemed to flow too slowly. Wet sand in an hourglass.

The Colonel had an expression of outright shock on his face. He didn't look puzzled, he didn't look intrigued. He was shocked. With every passing heartbeat his expression shifted into something else until it ended as something akin to reluctant bewilderment. Then, he started to walk towards the man, ignoring everything around him.

"John!" McKay whispered vigorously. "What are you doing?"

One look of the stranger shut him up.

"Castiel," John said in awed fear, then added frowning, "what did you do?" Whispered resentment stained his voice.

The man ignored it and turned fully towards the other, setting into a towering stance. The guards shifted nervously and even Elizabeth twitched. She didn't like this one bit. Nothing in the room moved but Sheppard. Then he dropped his weapon.

The man with the Wraith stunner reacted instantly and pointed it at the man to defuse the dangerous situation, but Elizabeth stopped him and gave the Colonel another chance to explain himself. "Do you know this man?" she asked. When he still didn't answer she nodded a silent _go _to fire the weapon. The man aimed. Then, the stranger glared at him and he fell over, unconscious.

"Don't try," he said and a bone chilling terror took over Elizabeth's whole body and she started to tremble uncontrollably. She didn't need to look around to know that the others felt it, too. _What was this man?_ She had never felt such a powerful presence before. She wanted nothing more than to bow down low to this being. By now, she was a hundred percent sure that he wasn't an Ancient. The megalomania was similar, but otherwise...

She silently watched Sheppard go to his knees before the other, looking up at him distressed. Even if she'd had something to say, she wouldn't have been able to open her mouth and form a coherent sentence. Her brain didn't seem to want to work.

"I am your new father, Sachiel," the man said and raised a hand above John's head, softly touching his hair. "You have always been a good brother. You did not deserve your fate. Close your eyes!" At the last sentence, he had raised his voice to address the others in the room and all their eyes shut close almost on their own. Elizabeth could see blinding whiteness behind her eyelids. A wailing sound seemed to shatter her ears. A tingling warmth engulfed her body. Then it was gone and she dared to look.

Sheppard now stood, slowly, and his eyes were wide open. "How?" he whispered. "Why?"

"You are now redeemed in heaven," the stranger told him and gently touched the other man's cheek. "I have always liked you best, brother. You have always been one of my closest siblings."

He now radiated waves of serenity and calmness Elizabeth wouldn't have thought this inhuman creature to be capable of.

"I am a good and just god. _Don't mess with it_." The last words were said in an icy whisper, meant as a serious threat. Then he was gone and her legs gave up under her, the room being coated in darkness. She fell, and soon everyone else followed.

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A/N:

Well, first off: although you can't know this, this turned out _very_ differently than I had anticipated.

This story won't be too long (approximately 12,000 words in 5 chapters + prologue) and I hope anyone else will come to like it. This won't be a "oh, we're all so happy" story and it's rather going to focus more on being human, having feelings etc. than the story development itself. I know this most certainly won't appeal to everyone, but since I had already written this for myself I decided to share it with you. I chose this rating as a precaution, because I don't know how some things/thoughts I am going to voice will be received.

Also, I don't know how frequent I am going to upload new chapters, but since I have already most of it typed down, I _will_ finish it some time. It all depends on how much time I find between my studies.

Now, concerning Supernatural: what you read in this prologue is about everything I took from the show (except for maybe some smaller references to heaven etc. later on). Sam and Dean won't be in this. The setting is somewhere at the end of Supernatural's season 6 and Atlantis' season 2 or 3, whatever fits best. I personally think that you don't really need to know anything about Supernatural to read this.

Please leave a review if you liked it/ didn't like it/ have suggestions. It is also very important to me to become a better writer in English, since it isn't my first language. If there are any things that are wrong or simply sound _strange_ (in places where such "strangeness" isn't intended) it would be very nice of you to comment on it, if you have the time!

Thank you for enduring my rambling. I hope you'll stick around!


	2. Dreams, not nightmares?

A/N: Thanks to anyone who read the last chapter, even though it's only been a short introduction. An even bigger thanks to those who reviewed! I've tried to change one or two things in the prologue and it should be better now. Also, at the end of this chapter you should have a better notion of the continuing tone of this story. But now, enjoy!

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Chapter 1:

Dreams, not nightmares?

On the same day, only a few moments before Elizabeth Weir went to get a coffee, someone else did just the same. Doctor Carson Beckett stepped into the mess hall and spotted Sheppard, McKay, Ronon and Teyla sitting at one of the tables. It was a calm day for all of them, a calm week even. A rare occurrence when living in a galaxy ruled by the Wraith. Yes, it was relaxing – but boring nonetheless. Sighing, Beckett poured himself some of the stuff they dared to call coffee and went over to them.

"I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes," he heard Teyla's amused voice and they all laughed. "So he really ate three of them at once?" Sheppard asked incredulously and Teyla nodded.

"Yes, just laugh at me!" McKay whined and crossed his arms. "But I guess you'd rather see me die of hypoglycemic shock." He pouted at Sheppard. Ronon only rolled his eyes.

"But seriously, Rodney, I wouldn't consider eating _one _of those if _all_ our lives depended on it," the Colonel answered in between laughs but then stiffened and touched his radio. "Yes?"

Someone on the other end told him something and he jumped up, the rest of his team following suit. "We have an intruder in the Gateroom," he informed them and went to the transporter. "Doc, you'd better prepare the infirmary, who knows what's gonna happen."

With that, they were gone.

Beckett did as he was told and hurried to the infirmary, leaving his hot coffee behind. When he got there, the few of his personnel that were already there were in a hurry. "Doctor," the youngest of them said and pushed the bag he was holding into Beckett's hands. "Let's go."

Then he ushered him outside and more dragged than led him towards the Gateroom. Another two followed. When they got around the last corner, they saw Lorne and his men standing in front of the door, weapons at the ready. A woman was messing with the control crystals – or at least trying to, judging from her shaking head. Her soft mumbling sounded suspiciously like swearing.

"The door won't respond to anything I'm doing, Sir," she said straightening up. "Something seems to have messed it up real bad."

"What happened?" Beckett asked them, eyeing the door ominously. He wondered why he thought it'd be a slow day. It never was a slow day. Absence of danger was the greatest danger of all.

"After the Colonel's team went in, the door closed shut and blocked our way in. We tried to radio them, but can't reach them. We can't get in," Lorne told them. The woman turned back towards the door and tried other combinations Beckett didn't understand. He only sighed and put his equipment on the ground.

He felt a bit useless. All that was left for him to do was hope it wouldn't be too late. Fear always gripped him when he was called to the Gate for an emergency, especially if his friends were concerned...

"We could still blow our way in," one of those faceless soldiers remarked but the look he received said all. "Sure, and smash everything and every_one_ behind it to pieces." Pieces Beckett would have to put back together, like usual. If the different pieces could still be made out, that is.

Lorne tried once again to make contact, but nothing. Suddenly, a wailing sound started and grew louder, beyond bearable levels. They all put their hands over their ears to prevent them from shattering. Then the sound stopped and just as Carson got his bearings back, he saw the door opening. Shaking off the last bits of disorientation, the doctor stormed into the room.

It was void of any intruder, with his colleagues scattered around in a circle, out cold, weapons lying on the ground beside them. Without a moment's hesitation, Beckett rushed to the person nearest to him who happened to be Rodney and checked his life signs. Still breathing, pulse normal. He ordered everyone else to do the same and had all doors close again should they happen to have fallen victim to an ancient plague.

Again.

In Pegasus galaxy, you could never be too cautious.

"Rodney, can you hear me, son?" he tried and gently shook the other man's shoulder. Surprisingly, it worked. Rodney groaned and mumbled, "It time already? Dun wanna get up, jus' 5 more minutes..."

With that he rolled over and put his arm around Sheppard's waist who was lying just beside him. It looked kind of cute. Kind of.

"Rodney," he tried once more and rolled him back. "Yes, yes, it's okay," he answered and stirred, slowly opening his eyes. "Beckett?" he asked and frantically looked around. "What happened? Why am I lying on the ground?"

The rapid movement next to him woke the Colonel up, too, and he slowly sat up straight, assessing the situation.

"Do you remember anything that happened?" Beckett asked and flashed a penlight into Rodney's eyes who barely resisted the urge to swat it away. "I don't know. I mean, no. I remember having been called to the Gateroom, but after that..." He trailed off, looking into the distance, obviously trying to remember. "It's too blurry."

"And you, Colonel?" John shook his head silently, still preoccupied with something else. "Nothing." Rodney tried to shift a bit closer to him. Soon everyone else was awake, but all with lacking memories.

"Alright, now," Beckett finally said, clapping his hands. "I will take all of you to the infirmary to do some checkups. You might seem healthy, but we still don't know what happened and what caused your memory loss. Until we do, I'll keep you supervised and checked for any signs of illness."

_A calm day, indeed._

* * *

"Ma'am, we have checked the security tapes," were the first words the Lieutenant said upon entering the room. He made his way over to Elizabeth with determination and stopped at her bed, his posture stiff. "Did you find out anything?"

He made a face but quickly recovered from it. Blinking furiously, he shifted his weight onto his right foot and fumbled with the hem of his uniform. He seemed to be one of the nervous type. Elizabeth wondered how long he had been on Atlantis to be thrown off guard by something that could _almost_ pass as everyday life.

"No, Ma'am. Every tape we checked went black at the same time before we could see anything. They're trying to enhance the last frames, they're a bit blurry too, so we might be able to spot something shortly before the interference."

She nodded and dismissed him, sinking back into her cushions. She didn't know what to think of the situation. Their first examinations showed that nothing had been stolen or destroyed. Also, there was no other life sign in the city than theirs, meaning that the intruder really had disappeared. And, according to Beckett, they all seemed perfectly healthy, without any indication to having been infected with anything. Most of her staff was already cleared to work again. It nearly seemed like the stranger had never been in Atlantis at all. But why would he suddenly appear and then disappear shortly after without doing anything? It didn't make any sense at all.

An exploding sound and excessive swearing waved through the room to her left. Elizabeth frowned and stood, carefully peeking around the corner. Carson had his back turned towards her, holding an electrical device in his hands that was smoking profoundly. With a sigh, he threw it into a corner where Colonel Sheppard was standing, looking at it with a nearly neutral expression. An almost shy, impish smile danced on his face.

"Well then, it seems that destiny doesn't want you doing this checkup on me," he said easily and further leaned back onto the wall. Becket just sighed again and waved John over to him, rummaging through a cupboard.

"I'll just make it manually, then," he mumbled and shook his head. "I don't know how this could happen. It worked perfectly fine before... must have been the overly exceeding use..."

"Yes, must've," the Colonel nodded in agreement, crossing his arms. He relaxed a bit and sprouted one of those lopsided smiles. "Hey, Elizabeth!" he spotted her and waved her over. Slowly, she complied and shuffled towards him. "What happened?" she asked. She seemed to do that a lot lately.

"Beckett here broke his stuff," John answered and uncrossed his arms, drumming his fingers on the surface behind him. The doctor straightened up and shot him a look, motioning him to sit down on the bed, afterwards prodding the Colonel a bit too furiously, but still professionally, with a small syringe.

"It's strange," Elizabeth mused and leaned against the wall next to him, "not to remember anything. But to be honest, stranger things have happened here." The last words were said with a small smile.

"So, am I free to go, doc?" John asked once the doctor was done, flashing a way too toothy smile and jumping from the bed. "Yes, it seems like you're perfectly healthy. The healthiest you've ever been. You're free to go. All of you."

Just as they were leaving the infirmary, Rodney shouted at them to wait and caught up with them, tugging at the hem of his uniform, obviously just having changed into it. "I wanted to show you something, come on."

He led them into the Gateroom that had already taken on its normal routine again and typed away at some computer, bringing the surveillance video up on screen. Like the Marine from before had said, it was void of anything suspicious. "This is the normal video," the physicist commented and typed some more, "and this is the video slowed down to its single pictures. They were a bit blurry at first but we managed to clear them up a bit. See these last three..." He brought them up. The first one was empty. But the other two...

"Let me introduce you to our mystery man."

And indeed, there was a black haired man with weird clothing style, staring directly into the camera. "After that, every camera broke. The others all the same," McKay ended his report. He looked at Weir, anticipating her reaction.

"Can you do anything to trace him down?" she asked, but Rodney shook his head. "I don't think so. He didn't leave any energy signatures."

"Okay. Once we have ended our investigations and have ruled out anything harmful, I think we can return to our normal Gate travels. I don't think it's necessary to stop everything until we know what happened, not with so few leads. Until then, everyone who fell victim to the attack should go to his room and get some rest." With that, she dismissed them and went over to other people waiting to give their reports.

"Yes, room," Rodney muttered, typing again and not noticing that Elizabeth was gone, "I'll just... something..."

John shook his head and left the physicist to his work, but not without squeezing his hand reassuringly. The walk to his quarters seemed shorter than he had hoped, even unworldly so, and just as the door closed behind him, John slid down the wall, letting his arms drop to their sides like unneeded parts and sprawling his legs. The events of the day kept on replaying in his head. Waking up human, enjoying a quiet day with his friends... meeting his brother Castiel... only that it wasn't his brother any more but a mere shadow of someone he once knew... then, his redemption.

He could feel his grace, his essence, press against his chest, weighting uncomfortable against him, its warmth burning his skin. He felt his wings press against his back, scratching at him. He could see them, but humans could not. He could feel them, but he couldn't touch them – not with his physical body. To him, they were nothing more but too heavy flesh. In heaven, they had been...

Heaven.

He couldn't return to heaven. Even though Castiel might have given him his grace back, he couldn't expose himself to the other angels. He didn't dare. John shifted.

He didn't know how his brother had been able to obtain all this power, obtain all those lost souls screaming inside of him. He had heard them claw from the inside, at the body that was keeping them apart from freedom. The other angel would shatter soon, if he hadn't already.

Slowly, Sheppard stood, swaying slightly on his feet, the weight of his wings pulling him down. He had always wondered why they would have any weight when they couldn't get into contact with the physical world...

Fear. John recognized the feelings inside him as fear. For today he could fool his friends, even if it had been hard to smile... But how could he keep this up without them finding out about him? He couldn't tell them, not yet. Not if he didn't know how far this would go, how much of himself he really had lost... but he didn't want to lie to them either. And he wouldn't, at least not forever.

Fear... he could feel the emotions pour out of him, leaving his body and mind behind as an empty shell. Angels weren't made for feelings. They were soldiers. One of the reasons why he fell...

John screamed and grabbed a vase, throwing it against the wall, letting it shatter. Even the rage pumping through his veins didn't feel real. It was wrong. His emotions were wrong. Did he still feel or was it all an illusion? He banged his hands against his head. He wanted to cry, but couldn't. How could he? The numbness spreading through his veins felt like bugs. He didn't remember that it felt like this. Wrong, it didn't feel like anything, couldn't feel like anything at all.

But why did all his senses scream _desperation_ then?

Without conscious thought, John walked over to his CD player and pushed play. Johnny Cash. Now that he was able to go to heaven again, he craved to visit that man. He was looking down at him from the poster above his bed... No, he reminded himself, he couldn't risk his brothers to find out. The other angels couldn't ever know about what happened to him.

Still, something didn't feel right with the world. Something felt very wrong. And evil. The man-turned-angel sat down on his bed. He couldn't sleep and would never sleep again...

He wanted to go to Rodney.

But he shouldn't.

He sighed. Who did he belong to? He didn't belong to heaven, never really did. He had belonged at Castiel's side, once. As brothers. Not now anymore. And who did he want to fool? He didn't belong to humanity either. He had belonged in Atlantis.

_Did he belong? Does he still belong?_

He kicked his shoes off and lay down in his bed. Like this morning and the evening before. Like the day before that. Like every day since he had become...

He turned around. Clinging to something, anything that felt remotely like something he recognized, he thought _I'm Colonel John Sheppard. Worse hasn't kept me down before. _

He wouldn't need his beloved Jumpers now. He could ride the skies alone. The only thing he had always missed.

Now, he didn't even want that.

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Thanks for reading! :) The next chapter will contain a bit more action and injured Rodney :'(


	3. Storm of broken sense

A/N: So, the next chapter! This is the one with the most action and I sincerely hope it turned out well and is at least a liiiiiittle bit suspenseful. Enjoy! :)

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Chapter 2:

Storm of broken sense

"The investigations we did tonight confirmed our initial reports that nothing was damaged yesterday. We think we can take on our normal travels now," Elizabeth briefed Colonel Sheppard's team the next morning. Rodney nodded along with her, Ronon loomed quietly behind them, Teyla looked pleased with the news and John emanated slight boredom.

"I already have the first mission for you."

"Already?" Teyla looked puzzled.

Sheppard shifted onto his right foot, leaning against the wall with his hand. "You think it's safe enough?" he asked Weir. She nodded as though agreeing to his words, but then said "we don't have much of a choice. We tried to contact the team we sent away yesterday, but they don't answer any calls. They were the only ones off-world. I want you to check on them and find out why we can't make contact. Find out if it has anything to do with what happened yesterday."

The team nodded and hurried out of the room, preparing for their mission. When they stepped onto the other world, they were in a tightly knit forest, with the only way out being a narrow dirt track. The sky above them was grey, announcing a nearing storm. There was no wind. No birds.

"We should hurry," the Colonel said looking up and then started to walk towards the village following the track, the others following him. It didn't take them long to spot the first houses in the distance. They looked more like simple cottages made of old wood and grass. A pillar of smoke was swirling above them, drawing a warning into the air and losing itself in the thick blanket of clouds.

One small and fragile droplet fell with incredible speed, bouncing onto Teyla's nose and being wiped away in lone insignificance. The first to come. The team ventured farther into the village, the only thing welcoming them an icy wind, dead stone and a chilling silence.

"I don't like this," Ronon grunted, kicking an empty barrel over. Rodney hummed in agreement and had his eyes glued to his life sign detector. "There's no one here." The rain had begun to tumble down forcefully now, coating everyone of them in blankness, limiting their view to but a few meters.

"I wonder what happened to the people who lived here." Teyla knelt down to pick up a piece of crude jewelery embed deep enough into the dirt to fortunately be overseen by whoever raided the village.

John stood in the middle of a small plaza, staring into the sky, unmoving. Teyla walked over to his side with the necklace, joining him in his sky-gazing. Heavy drops smashed against her eyes and she closed them, looking down again. Her team leader was still looking up. "Colonel," she tried and touched his arm to make him aware of what she was holding. She gave him the necklace and wondered aloud, "how could this have happened? The other team reported a healthy population just yesterday. Now, everything is destroyed and no one is left. No bodies." _Just blankness... _

Like in himself.

Sheppard heaved a heavy sigh and weighed himself against the wind that was constantly growing in strength. He looked at his watch.

"We should report this to Atlantis," he roared over the rapidly growing wailing and pointed at the time. Teyla nodded and went to Ronon and McKay to gather them. They were bent over the barrel Ronon had kicked over before. "Are these the things we were supposed to trade for?" he screamed, pointing at sodden fruits that were scattered around in the mud. Teyla nodded and McKay grimaced.

"Looks suspiciously like citrus to me."

The walk back took them more than twice the time they'd needed before. The trees spent them some shelter from the rain, but the wind raced on mercilessly, twisting branches, snapping them and shuffling leaves, ripping them apart. Water splashed about everywhere, their boots leaving deep footprints. One branch hit Ronon square on his head. He shrugged it off. McKay could see him saying something but no sound reached his ears but for the crying storm.

Rumbles vibrated deep within the earth and the physicist was positively relieved they would soon be in the warm shelter of Atlantis again. Lost in the weather, none of them noticed any shadows near the Gate, some gathering around the DHD, others standing watch, shadowy guns ready.

Rodney was concentrated on setting one foot in front of the other, pulling each out of the mud with a smacking sound. Teyla and John were walking in front of him and Ronon had fallen behind to "watch" their backs. McKay doubted he'd see an enemy if he punched him in the face.

When had the weather gotten so bad?

The icy wind took his thoughts back to the destroyed village and the missing team. Was it the Wraith? Genii? He knew it was futile to search for anyone in this storm, but it bothered him nonetheless.

He needed his hot coffee. The rain was unbearable. His clothes were sodden and glued to his body, but he didn't feel cold anymore. There was only numbness that had spread from his fingertips into every last of his cells. His own intestines began to feel so hot against his skin that it hurt and he wondered if this was how it felt to burn to death. He doubted it. His skin wasn't hot. It was numb.

He nearly stumbled into John when he stopped abruptly, raising his fist. Rodney looked up to complain but stiffed when he saw the reason for his halt. Through the mist of rain he spotted the weak colored glow of a chevron engaging. First one, then the second and third. Sheppard waved them to the side behind the trees to take cover. More cover than they already had naturally.

The team huddled together to not lose a member in the rain and cocked their guns. Slowly they drew closer, trying carefully not to make any sound. Rodney wondered why. No one could have ever heard them. Finally they reached the small clearing with the Gate and strained their eyes to make out anything else but just shadows.

There were many there. It were at least twenty they could spot, probably more. Some were standing in a circle around the Gate to secure it, some going through with heavy boxes and others just hovered there without obvious reasons.

One of them was walking close by them, hurrying to the Gate. Ronon shifted. "It's the Genii," he remarked.

The thought how he could know that was cut short when Rodney craned his neck to see better, stepping to the side and tripping over his foot that was still stuck in the mud. He fell, butt first, out of the protection of the woods, splashing water in all directions.

The guard who stood right next to them as it turned out only stared at him for a second. Yes, he was Genii alright. Then, recognition flashed in his eyes, panic, maybe, or surprise. He fired.

The blast hit McKay in the chest and he toppled over, his head meeting the ground. He heard a P-90 fire and saw the Guard drop beside him, dead. Someone pulled him up at his shirt, shouting at him, dragging him along through the trees. He could hear the Genii soldiers following them, but he knew that he couldn't, rationally... the storm was still too loud for that...

Breaking twigs scratched his legs and knees till they bled. No dry spot was left on his body. His chest felt unnaturally warm. It was a welcome change. A tree exploded when shots met it, its wood splintering in all directions. They were right behind them. The head start they had because of the weather was lost. Was it because of him?

Rodney didn't know how his feet could still carry his weight, but the hand on his arm tugging at him and pulling him along helped him go on. _John? John! _Ronon turned around and fired some shots into the nothingness, hoping to hit a target. Teyla helped him and emptied her magazine in a half circle...

He was being dragged further, going right, then left, up and down. He didn't feel the rain. Maybe it had stopped. Or maybe it didn't and he just didn't feel it anymore. They slowed down and Rodney hoped they wouldn't stop because he felt like he couldn't start going again. There was a steep slope, not very deep, but dangerous enough. No one would want to go down there if it could be avoided. "There is a small cave on this side!" Teyla screamed, looking down. "Perhaps we can find a safe way to descent!"

McKay seriously doubted that. If this rain continued, they could soon dive down to the cave. A jacket was pushed into his hands to press against his wound. Stop the blood flow. Not that it was of much use now... if there even was blood left to lose.. Then, he was pulled again, but the second of rest wasn't enough. He couldn't breathe...

Black spots danced in his vision and he fell over to the side, this time caught by someone. He was picked up. Ronon's hair danced in Rodney's face like snakes, hissing at him dangerously. They'd choke him! He tried to swat them away, snap their necks if they had one. But they didn't but it didn't matter, because he couldn't move either way.

He rocked up and down and up and water fell into his face, waves that washed the snakes away, leaving him alone on his own private boat, his own private one. Yes, with his sword he'd kill the snakes all by himself, like a pirate, if they didn't drown before. He'd ask Ronon to teach him. Ronon, whose hair danced against his closed eyes...

Then he was heaved down onto the damp ground, his back leaned against a stone wall. The warmth was still flowing out of him but now it made him cold. He had no strength left to shiver...

Rodney still heard the wind rage, but felt no icy blades. His whole body was a blade, sharp and shining. He was standing on it, about to topple over...

"Rodney," the abyss before him mocked him, "Rodney!"

It was no abyss but John and he was bent over him, looking worriedly, _too _worried, or so Rodney thought because this time his eyes needed some time to adjust. They were in a cave now and he was leaned against a lone rock, not the wall.

Ronon stood at the entrance, hidden from passerbys, if there were any, and Teyla stood next to John, watching dutifully as he retrieved something from his Tac Vest.

"I have to put a bandage on that," he said and gently took Rodney's hand that still clung to the shirt. "You can let go now." John carefully ripped his shirt open, trying to prey it away from the sticky wound. It was still bleeding, but he hadn't expected any differently. Carefully, the bandage was wrapped around it while Teyla sat down next to them, whispering reassuring but empty words.

It seemed so surreal. Only... it wasn't.

"Oh my god," Rodney whispered. "I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die!"

"No, you won't." Teyla lay a comforting hand on his shoulder but drew away when he grunted in pain. "You just have to hold on a bit longer." She stood and went to Ronon at the entrance to ask him about the storm and left Mckay behind in a world of pain that was setting his body on fire and trying to steal his consciousness away from him, again.

John was still watching him faithfully. "I guess it's time for my last words," Rodney gasped in between labored breaths. "No. You can do that when you're all old and wrinkly," John only answered to that.

"Don't make me laugh," the physicist rasped and chuckled. _Old and wrinkly, together with me? How nice that would've been... _His chuckle slowly turned into a cough.

"Rodney?" John asked and hurried closer to his side, kneeling, leaving his sitting position. More coughing and stained gasps, then nothing. "Rodney!" he screamed again, the other two rushing back inside.

"We have to revive him," Teyla said shrilly, trying not to waste a second, feeling his pulse. "He's lost too much blood," Ronon said and it sounded desperate. The sodden bandages and crimson puddle beneath it agreed with him.

"We still have to try."

John moved his hand to Rodney's chest but stopped. He could feel it. There would be no coming back from this. Ronon was right. Rodney would die.

Rodney _was_ dead. Hell, he could _see_ his ghost standing there, staring at his body with blank eyes, too shocked to do anything. "Oh no," the ghost muttered and it sounded so utterly _Rodney McKay_ that John instantly knew what to do. No, Sachiel knew.

Timidly, he closed his eyes and channeled the healing warmth that resided in his belly and sent it out into his fingertips. The damage that had been done was extreme, especially the blood loss. He told the blood to flow back inside and then sealed the skin shut inch after inch. To anyone watching the process, it would look like some single motion that would replace his broken body with a new, healed one.

In reality, it were hundreds of different processes, flowing into each other seamlessly and in unrecognizable speed. At least to human eyes. Healing wasn't just glowing warmth that acted on its own. Of course, without the holy power, it wouldn't be possible. But still, it needed more than just that and without an short but extreme moment of concentration, it could go very, very wrong.

It couldn't go wrong now.

Finally, John let out his breath and withdrew his hands. When he opened his eyes, he saw everyone staring at him, not saying a single word. Rodney stood and walked to the place his ghost was at just a few seconds before. Then he touched his chest, trying to feel his wounds but brushing only unmarred skin. He blinked.

John couldn't bear the looks he received and averted his eyes.

He knew he should feel sorry for McKay's confusion, feel regret for not telling his friends about this. Maybe he should be afraid of resentment, or maybe just be happy about saving Rodney, without fearing the consequences. John knew this. But as it was, Sachiel felt nothing of that at all, his only emotion being a slight tug of relief that tasted a bit like fear. Of the unknown.

Self conscious, he rose and stepped outside the cave, holding his arms up into the sky. The wind was icy against his skin and droplets teared like bullets into his body, but it didn't matter to him. He drew the black clouds back and calmed the rain. Now that they knew about him, he could just as well lead them back to the Gate. He knew there were no enemies left.

It felt like he betrayed all that he was while doing this. Killing John and his soul. Blue sky smiled down at him in a luminosity reminding of so many heavens and his team joined him, following him back to Atlantis without a word. Back home, if it still was...

They walked, although Sachiel could have easily brought them to the Gate in a matter of seconds. They walked, and it felt so surreal. They walked, and no one said a word. John had hoped it would take longer for him to have to reveal himself. He should've known better. He couldn't deny what his father has made him. It didn't matter now.

But still, as he stepped through the Gate, it felt like he left behind an important part of his life and an important part of himself. Pity it was the part he had always liked best.

* * *

From here on, only downwards.

Please leave reviews! :)


	4. Stains of Time

**Warning**: There are some strong themes in this chaper, especially self-harm. I hope the rating is appropriate (if not, please do tell) and I hope no one is offended by this. Please take care and don't proceed if this affects you badly in any way.

* * *

Chapter 3:

Stains of Time

"So... care to explain what happened back there?" Rodney finally asked into the tense silence, standing still. The person he'd addressed didn't turn around but first checked the hallway left and right for listeners. There weren't any.

Finally, John turned around to answer something witty but stopped short when he saw the look on his friend's face. McKay was standing in front of Ronon and Teyla, radiating waves of anger. He had one hand curled into a lose fist. His eyes were furious.

John's own eyes widened and he looked from Teyla to Ronon who firmly stayed in the background, waiting silently. Ronon was silent, too - usually, he was the one supposed to do threats, maybe even punch him and scream at him... How wrong one could be.

Rodney raised an eyebrow and snapped a finger in front of the Colonel's face. "So?"

John snapped his attention back at him and his face went from confusion to fear to anger. "I only tried to save you!" he tried, but Rodney shook his head furiously, lowering his fist a few inches. "Yes, you did that, right. But you know I didn't ask that."

John averted his eyes and shifted, muttering something incomprehensible. Trying for fear of resentment. Trying to gain sympathy. Rodney snapped and grabbed the other man's shoulder, driving him into the wall. Teyla raised her hand and opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it and retreated into the background once more.

"How did you do that?" came a whisper. "I didn't..." tried a shallow breath. "Don't lie to me!" deflected a thunderous scream. And with the same intent as before, Rodney carried on: "I saw what you did. No technology could have done that. I was dead! And you saw my _ghost_ and looked me _straight_ into the eye! How did you... are you even...?"_ Are you even human?_

"I'm..."

"No lies!"

This moment weighed more than the world. Rodney felt his own heartbeat vibrate in his chest, felt the blood rush through his body. His pulse was way too fast and his breathing came out in shallow gasps. He didn't know if it was from the screaming and shoving and this strange desperation he couldn't place... or the fear... The world seemed to have turned around a hundred times and stopped upside down when, finally, John answered in something less than a whisper.

"I am an angel."

"_Oh._"

Rodney's grip loosened and his shoulders sagged, as though he had known the answer all along and had hoped it weren't true. But of course he hadn't known, couldn't have know. He probably won't even believe him now –

"I am a soldier of God," he added slowly, addressing Ronon and Teyla directly shouldn't they have heard about it before. "I... don't understand," Teyla asked with uncertainty. Someone snorted. Then John unfurled his wings, unseen, and embraced his friends, lending them the trust to believe, to _know_. For one second, they were suspended in the air above the ocean, Atlantis below them. Then, in the blink of an eye, they were back in the hallway.

First, his friends were completely quiet, no reaction at all. Then, Rodney shook his head and firmly said "no", turned around and took off into the direction they had come from. "Wait!" John called after him, "let me explain..."

"No," his friend repeated, "I don't want to hear this." He turned around the corner after shooting one last empty look in their direction. John turned to face Teyla and Ronon and tried for a crooked smile where there was nothing inside him. Teyla shrugged.

"I'll just go..." she pointed down the hallway and went the same way as Rodney, Ronon following after one last assessing glance. Suddenly, John was all alone, his still unfurled wings pulling him towards the ground. He closed his eyes and let himself be whiffed into his quarters, starting his CD player with a thought, hit repeat, but only out of habit. His wings pulled heavier every second and no one else was there to catch them and him from crashing to the ground and he sat, weeping his last drop of soul.

* * *

Elizabeth had the feeling that something was wrong since the moment her best team had stepped out of the Gate. They were soaked through to the bone and shivering, but as the medical crew tried to offer them blankets they all declined, looking to the ground, the wall, the ceiling and everywhere but her. Except for one person, who strode right up to her.

"The village was attacked by the Genii," Sheppard said seriously, either not noticing or simply non-caring of the wary looks his team mates shot him, "there was no one left to find. No corpses, nothing. We were held up by a giant storm that's slowed down a bit already, but I don't think we should send any more teams until it hasn't cleared completely."

Rodney shifted from one foot to the other as though wanting to say something, but he kept quiet. Teyla scratched at her arm and fixated some spot on the wall and Ronon simply stared at the Colonel. Elizabeth could smell something was wrong.

"That all, Colonel?"

"I think the Genii were transporting some boxes into the Gate, maybe they were looting the village, more probably their mines."

That was the end of his explanation and he just stood there, saying nothing and doing nothing and waiting for her to say something. She waited for one of them to say something, anything, but it seemed like it wouldn't happen.

"O...kay?" she asked but still didn't get any response. "Get some new clothes and clean yourself up, we'll discuss this mission afterwards," she finally dismissed them with a sigh, observing how the Colonel's team trotted after him out of the Gate room, clearly only following him without a certain direction in mind.

She went to her office and decided to finish some of her paperwork. After that she would choose the teams to return to the planet the next morning, hopefully, or whenever the storm would have passed completely. The numbingly boring routine helped put her mind off the troubles of her most trusted team, but it didn't take long for the nagging feeling to return to the back of her head.

With a sigh she put her only half-finished paperwork to the side.

She had to talk to Sheppard.

When she turned around the last corner on her way to his room, she saw McKay already standing in front of the Colonel's door. He shifted from one feet to the other, obviously nervous. He raised his handy, nearly touching the door, but stopped a few centimeters short. He shook his head and began to turn around.

Then he spotted her.

"Oh, hey, Elizabeth," he said biting his lip, "I was just leaving."

"Rodney," she began, closing the remaining distance between the two of them with a few long strides, "I was just about to talk to the Colonel about the mission. I have the feeling that something's... wrong."

The physicist eyes widened only a fraction, but she noticed nonetheless.

"How did you get this assumption? Everything's alright, splendid even, better than ever!"

His voice was just a little bit too chirpy.

"Rodney..."

"No, really, it's alright. I have some very important stuff to do, you know, I think Zelenka's found some very interesting things I have to look over."

His voice cracked only a bit and he turned on his heels, hurriedly heading into the opposite direction from which she had come. "Sorry," he added over his shoulder and this alone should have told her that something was wrong.

Elizabeth watched him turn around the corner, then sighed and knocked at the Colonel's door. The only thing answering her was music, the lyrics clearly distinguishable now that she was standing right next to the door. "John, I'd like to talk to you."

_I focus on the pain, the only thing that's real._

"John?"

She tries the door and finds it curiously unlocked. Hesitantly, she steps into the room, her eyes roaming around, seemingly without aim. Then they lock onto something. There. On the ground. A crumbled bundle. _Blood?_

She lets out a startled cry and rushes to John's side. She's facing his naked back, raw, swollen, red with blood. He's crouching next to a small bedside table, a glinting knife sitting next to him on the ground. She kicks it aways, kneels next to him. Turns him around. His face is next to hers now, but he's not looking at her.

"I tried to... they won't go." He buries his face in his hands.

_Try to kill it all away, but I remember everything._

Elizabeth fumbles with her radio, tells the infirmary, _anyone_, to get here. Fast. Her urgency and fear makes her stumble over the words. She tries to touch his shoulder, some spot where it isn't bloodstained. A sharp intake of breath and he scurries away from her, his side hitting the bedframe.

"No," he whispers and begins scratching at his chest. "Stop it, John!" she says. Now she's screaming and trying to remove his hands, but he's too strong and goes on and on, until his chest too is bloody. "I don't want it!"

"What don't you want, John? What is it?"

He shakes his head, finally stopping the clawing motion. He looks up at her, his eyes rimmed red, but completely dry. "It's all my fault."

_What have I become, my sweetest friend? __Everyone I know goes away in the end._

"Oh, my..."

Rodney's standing in the door frame now, obviously having noticed the situation. _No,_ he mouths and then he's there too and grabs the Colonel's hand, staring at his chest, his shoulders... the small droplets of blood crashing silently onto the ground...

"_What have you done?_" His whisper softly carries his soul.

_I will let you down, I will make you hurt._

John doesn't move an inch. His eyes are transfixed on Rodney, deep, but at the same time not deep at all, not blinking once. "I had to," he finally says, "I tried, but it didn't work. I knew it wouldn't, _he _knew it wouldn't, but he tried anyway."

_I wear this crown of thorns upon my liars chair. Full of broken thoughts I cannot repair._

"I..."

Rodney cannot finish the sentence, because suddenly there are people everywhere, Carson and many others without a face, scurrying about, trying to fix something, _anything_. But the moment never stops, the image of John's eyes never disappears.

_Beneath the stains of time, the feelings disappear. _

Elizabeth is now standing next to Rodney, squeezing his hand and telling him something, but he doesn't listen. Carson is checking John frantically, seemingly startled by something.

"Where did all this blood come from?"

John is telling him that it's okay. He isn't hurt, he couldn't be hurt.

It's healed already.

His voice defeated.

Carson doesn't seem to know what to say. His movements slow, his eyes widen. For one short long moment, he locks eyes with the Colonel. Then he closes his eyes, shakes his head, tries to get back into reality.

"Still."

He lets John be taken away, having him lie face-down on a stretcher and he doesn't even protest. Passing Rodney, he turns his head just a fraction to the side and smiles one very empty smile. Rather than reassuring the physicist, it only worries him more.

_If I could start again a million miles away, I will keep myself, I would find a way._

"It's gonna be alright, Rodney."

Only it won't.

* * *

A/N:

The lyrics are, of course, by Johnny Cash's wonderful and touching "Hurt". Although a cover off Nine Inch Nails, I cannot help but see this as _the_ rendition of the song. It's one of the most touching songs I have ever heard. I almost didn't dare use the lyrics for this story out of respect, but well... I felt that these words fit very well and couldn't help myself. I hope it's okay.

I hope you enjoyed it, even though it was a fairly dark chapter. Only two chapters to go now, I think. Please leave me some reviews, good or bad, it's very important to me :) :) 3


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